


You deserve it

by Alba_lass12



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anyone say emotional rollercoaster?, Canon Divergence - The Empty Hearse, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Sherlock Holmes, F/M, Fluff, Little bit of angst, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy Hormones!, Pregnant Molly, Romantic Sherlock, Smut, surprise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alba_lass12/pseuds/Alba_lass12
Summary: Just a short, smutty, little piece, showing how caring and sweet Sherlock is towards Molly (at least in my head!)I took the opening of S03E01 and took a turn, so please don't expect 'sense-making' time-lines, I prefer them a bit wibbly-wobbly :)





	1. Chapter 1

_“Fancy some chips?”_

_“What?”_

_“I know a fantastic fish shop just off the Marylebone Road, the owner always gives me extra portions.”_

_“Did you get him off a murder charge?”_

_“No, I helped him put up some shelves."_

_“Sherlock?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“What was today about?”_

_“Saying thank you,”_

_“For what?”_

_“For everything you did for me."_

_“It's OK. It's my pleasure,”_

_“No. I mean it,”_

_“I don't mean pleasure; I mean I didn't mind. I wanted to.”_

_“Moriarty slipped up; he made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible. But you can't do this again, can you?”_

_“I've had a lovely day. I'd love to, I just, um...”_

_“And, congratulations, by the way . ”_

He knew. She felt the blood rising to her cheeks and looked down, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. Her hands instinctively moved to her stomach as to shield it from his imminent deductions. 

“How far along are you?” he asked. 

“About 5 weeks,” she answered, her voice trembling and soft, “I only found out a few days ago.” 

Sherlock stood still for a few minutes before he reached down and kissed her gently on her cheek. “I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it.” Before Molly could even think of a reply, he had turned around and walked swiftly out the door, leaving her standing in the hallway, a tear rolling down her cheek. 

It was nearly 2 in the morning and Molly was fast asleep. It had taken her a long time to drift off, the conversation from earlier that day repeating itself in her head over and over. She’d wondered if she should have told him the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to it, she could barely wrap her hear around it and she had worried about his reaction. 

Suddenly her phone started ringing and she woke up with a start and tried to find the light switch on her nightstand. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sudden brightness. Blinkingly, she grabbed her phone and saw Sherlock’s name on the screen. 

“Hello?” 

“Five weeks?” came Sherlock’s voice from the other side of the line. 

“What?” she asked, her mind still a bit slow from sleep. 

“You are five weeks pregnant at this moment?” 

“Euhm, yes. Listen Sherlock, it’s the middle of the night. Do we need to do this now?” 

“I’m coming.” 

And with that, he hung up. 

Molly sat up in her bed and sighed. This was so very him, she should have known. He was not one to let go of things easily, and it wouldn’t have taken him very long to do the maths. Reluctantly, Molly got up and put on her dressing gown. It would take Sherlock no more than fifteen minutes to get to her place, and she was sure it would not be a quick chat. She walked into the kitchen and put on the kettle. The living room was dark and still, like all things are at that time of night, so she switched on the floor lamp behind the sofa and returned to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. After ten minutes, she heard a car pull up outside and footsteps making their way to her front door. Molly made her way to the door and opened it. There stood Sherlock, immaculately dressed as always, but this wasn’t private detective Sherlock Holmes, this was the man behind the façade. His face was soft and kind, his eyes bright and a tiny smile adorning his lips. His posture was more relaxed than normal, his hair was messier than she had ever seen. Molly was taken aback by this appearance and she felt her mouth open slightly. 

“Are you going to let me in Molly Hooper, or would you like to stay here and stare?” Sherlock asked as he stepped in the hallway and walked straight into the living room where he sat down on one of the chairs. She followed him and crawled onto the sofa, clutching her dressing gown tightly against her body. 

“You undoubtably know why I am here,” began Sherlock, his eyes sparkling ever so slightly. “If I recall correctly, I had a minor relapse a few weeks ago and came to you for solace and distraction,” Molly frowned at his choice of words. “I don’t mean distraction as in – You know perfectly well what I mean Molly. Now, I might not have been that sober or clear in the head as I would’ve liked to be, but I seem to distinctly remember waking up in your bed the next day.” 

To Molly’s surprise, Sherlock got up from his chair and sat down rather close to her. He looked at her and she found herself getting lost in his eyes again, butterflies and electric sparks exploding all over her body – gosh why did she adore him so much? 

“Molly?” Sherlock continued, “Please tell me, did we spend the night together?” 

She felt her cheeks burning for the second time that day, a warm feeling washing over her body as she thought back on that night. 

“Molly? Tell me.” 

“We, uhm, I, well, you showed up without notice, and, uhm, we, I mean, yes, we did,” she stammered as she watched his face light up with joy. 

“Really?” he asked, “Does that mean that – given your menstrual cycle is as regular as can be, am I...?” 

Molly tried to form a coherent sentence in her head, she hadn’t planned on telling him yet, no one else knew, not even her parents. The silence in the room was almost tangible, she could feel Sherlock’s eyes burning as she looked down at her knees. His hands wrapped around her face and he lifted her head so that they were looking at each other. 

“Molly?” he asked again, softly. 

“Yes, you are.” 


	2. Chapter 2

His expression changed, the smile faded and his eyes closed in what Molly only could describe as sadness and desperation. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked as she felt a knot forming in her stomach. “Aren’t you happy? You don’t have to – if you don’t want to, you know, be involved, I understand. I mean, it’s a bit unexpected and I know you probably have no desire in becoming a dad. That’s fine, I’ll be ok on my own...” She tried to sound secure and brave despite the tears burning in her eyes. Sherlock was quiet for a while before he looked up at her and tried to smile again. “It’s not that,” he said as he fumbled with her fingers in his hands, “I just wished I could remember the night our child was conceived.” Molly couldn’t help but let out an involuntary giggle, “Oh Sherlock, don’t worry,” she sighed with relief, “Are you happy though?”

“Happy?” he replied, “Of course I am happy! As you said it is rather unexpected, but you are the only woman I would ever want to be the mother of my child.” The spark in his eyes reappeared and Molly felt her heart swell with warm feelings. Sherlock let go of her hands and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Are you happy as well?” he asked and Molly nodded, smiling from ear to ear, unable to utter a single word as her stomach did somersaults. Suddenly, his hands were on her cheeks and his lips pressed passionately against hers. Molly couldn’t help but close her eyes and a soft hum escaped her throat as her fingers made their way up his neck into his dark curls. 

Before she could get used to the feeling, Sherlock drew back his head and he sank on his knees in front of the sofa. “Hello there little one,” he whispered as he placed his hands on Molly’s lower abdomen, “I am your daddy. You have no idea how much I love you already. I will do whatever it takes to keep you and your mummy safe, I promise.” He planted a kiss just below her belly button and stood up.

“Really?” asked Molly, breathlessly, as she got on her feet to stand in front of him. “Really,” answered Sherlock, “If you want me to. You know how I feel about you Molly. How I’ve always felt about you.” 

“How?” the word was out of her mouth before she realised it. 

“Let me show you.” he said as he kissed her again and lifted her into his strong hands. Molly forgot everything around her and wrapped her legs around his waist as they continued kissing. Their lips parting, allowing their tongues to explore each other properly for the first time. Sherlock’s hands were on the nape of her back, pulling her close to his body as he carried her to her bedroom. Gently he laid her on the bed, leaning over her. Molly sank into the mattress, her arms still around his neck and she felt a heat building in her groin. It had been a long time since she had ‘proper’ sex, last time with Sherlock hadn’t been more than a matter of minutes, and she was aching for it. Her mouth felt cold as his lips left hers to kiss her neck and collarbone. She could hear his breathing getting deeper and she felt his bulge pressing against her leg through their clothes. “Sherlock,” she gasped just as he moved his hands under her pyjama top to caress her breast, and he stopped instantly. “What is it? Do you want me to quit?” he looked at her in confusion. “No, please don’t stop,” she sat up to quickly take off her top and started fiddling with the buttons on Sherlock’s shirt, “I want to see you and feel you.” Desperately she tried to undo his belt, her hands touching his soft pale skin. Sherlock rolled onto his back and pulled his trousers down so that they were all bunched up at his ankles. He was wearing a simple black boxer, the fabric stretched over his still growing arousal. Molly felt a jolt trough her body and she wanted nothing more than to release it from its cotton restraints. She pulled his boxer down so that Sherlock’s cock sprung free; gorgeous and perfectly formed, twitching with excitement. Molly bent down and kissed the tip, her hands gliding over his hips and inner thighs. She could hear Sherlock hiss at her actions and the thought of what was to come turned her on even more. She kicked her legs back so that her feet were propped up against the headboard and she let her head down on his stomach. She let her tongue slide over his cock, her hands between his legs. As she tried to get her mouth around the head in this rather awkward position, she felt Sherlock’s fingers twirl her pubes playfully. The burning heat grew even bigger and she couldn’t help but moan at this feeling. She continued to let her tongue play with his cock, tasting his salty, sweaty skin. Two hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her up on her knees. Sherlock sat up as well and kissed her on the back as his hands cupped her breasts from behind, his fingers pinching and tugging her nipples. “You are beautiful Molly,” whispered Sherlock in-between kisses, “I can barely hold myself in.” She turned around and swung one leg over his so that she was sitting in his lap, his erection poking at her entrance. “I want you,” she said with a hoarse voice as she pushed him into the pillows, “I need you.” 

Sherlock tried to get up to kiss her, but Molly held him down as she positioned herself above his eager cock. Slowly, she sank down onto him, gasping and biting her lip. Sherlock groaned and bucked his hips upwards, his hands on her breasts again. They stayed like this for a few seconds, both of them so caught up in the feeling that they never wanted it to end. After Molly got used to his impressive size, she started to move up and down, taking him deeper with each move. She felt Sherlock twist and turn underneath her and she knew he was getting close. Without warning, he moved his hand from her breast and pressed his thumb against her clit. Molly moaned and shivered at this sudden stimulation. Sherlock continued to finger her with such perfection that it wasn’t long before she felt her muscles spasm and her walls clutching against Sherlock’s cock. She started to hum his name as her orgasm took control of her. Just when she thought she was going to explode, Sherlock groaned loudly and came as he cried out her name. She fell on his heaving chest, his cock still pulsing deep inside her. It took them several minutes to get back to their senses and when they did, Molly smiled at Sherlock, “I think this might be the night to remember. I know I will.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all you lovely people :)  
> Thank you so much for all your kudos and comments, it really means a lot to me?
> 
> Just a short chapter this time, as I didn't really know where else to break up the story.  
> Hope you enjoy ;)

Sherlock woke up next morning, confused as to where he was. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts and memories of the night before and he started to smile. He rolled over to his side, hoping to catch a glimpse of Molly, still fast asleep, but the bed was empty next to him. Before he could turn on the lights, he heard coughs coming from the next room, followed by the sound of Molly retching. Alarmed, he got up and walked over to the bathroom. “Molly,” he said as he slowly opened the door, “can I come in?” She didn’t answer, but she didn’t protest either when Sherlock walked into the room. She was kneeling on the cold floor, head pressed against the toilet seat as she tried to control her breathing. “Are you ok?” asked Sherlock, tentatively. Molly looked up at him, bags under her eyes, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead. 

“This is all your fault.” she grunted, her hands pressed against her stomach as she felt another wave of sick violently working its way up her oesophagus. 

“Why? Did I give you a stomach bug?” Sherlock sounded surprised and worried at the same time. 

“Well, that’s one way to nickname our child.” replied Molly, dryly. She got up and flushed, before walking over to the sink to wash her face. She saw Sherlock standing sheepishly in the middle of her small bathroom and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“It’s ok Sherlock, I’m only joking!” she playfully hit him on the head with her toothbrush, and she turned around to grab the toothpaste from the sink. In the mirror she could see Sherlock walking towards her, his arms wrapping around her waist and she felt his lips against the back her neck. 

The living room was basking in the early-morning sunlight, and Molly was humming as she made her breakfast. Despite the nausea, she was starving. As she sat down to eat her freshly made toast, Sherlock came out of the bathroom. He had insisted on using her shower, arguing he was still smelling “ _like I had intercourse ten minutes ago_ ”. His hair was dripping, and the towel he had used to wrap around himself left very little to the imagination. Molly found herself drifting away at this sight and she dropped her toast. Sherlock turned around as he heard her cuss softly. 

“You appear to have dropped your breakfast,” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed him. “Was it intentional, so that I would have to come over and bend down in front of you to pick it up? This ridiculously small towel could very easily fall off you know.” 

Was, was he flirting? Deciding to join him, she let her bathrobe slide of her shoulder. 

“Oh no, I would not dare to take that chance. But it seems like my robe has ideas of its own,” she pouted as she let the fabric open up further, exposing one of her breasts. 

“Miss Hooper!” That is no behaviour for the breakfast table. I would have hoped your mother raised you better than that.” He made his way to Molly and scooped her out of her chair, dropping his towel in the process, “I have no choice but to take you back to the bedroom and take care of that dirty mind of yours.” 

Molly giggled and kissed him passionately, “As much as I would love that,” she sighed, “I have to get ready for work.” She got back on her feet and let her hands glide through his wet curls. “But I fear my mind will still be soiled when I get back tonight.” and with that, she turned on her heels and walked to the bedroom to get dressed, leaving a confused and aroused Sherlock behind. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

He spent most of the day in her apartment, reading her study books. It had just gone six o’clock and he was in the kitchen, making dinner when the front door slammed open. Molly marched in, beaming with anger.

“You utter arse!” she shouted, throwing her bag on the floor, “How could you?” 


	4. Chapter 4

“You told him, didn’t you? You couldn’t keep your mouth shut and you fucking told him!” Molly was standing in front of Sherlock now and he could see the dried-up tears on her face. She was still fuming with anger and when Sherlock tried to put his arms around her, she shoved him away from her. “You need to go.” She said stiffly, before disappearing into her bedroom. Sherlock stood frozen on the spot, unsure about what had just happened. 

“Molly?” he asked, softly knocking on her door, “Please love, tell me, what happened?” His question remained unanswered and for the second time that day he hesitantly opened the door. Molly was curled up on her bed, her entire body shaking as she cried into her pillow. Carefully, Sherlock sank down next to her and placed his hand on her back. “What happened?”

Molly sat up and wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her cardigan. She seemed so small, so vulnerable, that all Sherlock wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and shield her from the rest of the world. “Are you ok? Come on Molly, talk to me.” She slowly raised her head, new tears forming in her eyes and she started to speak.

“Mike called me into his office this afternoon. Saying he needed to have a word with me. And then he told me I couldn’t do post-mortems for the time being,” she sobbed quietly, “He said it was policy, it being unsafe for pregnant women to work with chemicals and bodily fluids. How can he know? No one knows besides you.” 

Sherlock took her hands and kissed them. “I didn’t tell him love. Honestly, I wanted to. The idea of you potentially coming into contact with anything that might hurt you or our child worries me. But I would never tell him, not behind your back.” He cupped her chin in his hand, lifting it up so that their eyes met. “Mike has known you for years, I have no doubt he knew something was up. And if you don’t mind me saying, you look different.”

Molly raised her eyebrow, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Well, you do look different. How do you think I knew so quickly? According to some of the books I read, pregnant women get this sort of glow. It is unusual this early on, but then again, you are no usual woman. You are my rare, beautiful, amazing woman.”

“You’re Sherlock freakin’ Holmes! You notice everything!” Molly exclaimed, “Mike doesn’t even notice when I cut of dye my hair.” She still felt frustrated, but Sherlock’s comment on her being his woman echoed in her ears, causing her to smile a little.

“Why don’t you text Mike, tell him you want to talk when you get in tomorrow morning. Then you can sort things out properly.” Sherlock suggested, in an attempt to lift Molly’s spirits. It seemed to work, and Molly leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” she whispered between kisses, “I love you.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been four weeks since Molly had said she loved him. He had never said it back, but she didn’t mind. He showed his love in so many different ways, he managed to surprise her on a daily basis. One day it would be fresh flowers on her kitchen table that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The next she would come home to find him waiting for her, candles lit and music playing in the background. She loved these little acts of kindness and love, it made her feel adored. 

Even though they weren’t officially living together, Sherlock spent most of his time at her little flat. Making sure he was there during the episodes of morning sickness, plain biscuits and a cup of weak, sugary tea at the ready to soothe Molly’s upset stomach. They spent hours making love, their bodies and minds intertwined, needing to be as close to each other as possible.

But the biggest sign of Sherlock’s love for Molly came after her first midwife appointment. They had gone to the hospital together, Sherlock holding her hand for most of the time. The midwife, a kind, rosy-cheeked woman in her late fifties, had asked her a plethora of questions before weighing her and taking her blood. She then guided Molly to the examination table and placed the ultrasound probe on her abdomen. Suddenly the room filled with what sounded like dozens of galloping horses. Molly looked at Sherlock, an indescribable feeling washing over her and she could see him standing next to her, proud and overcome with emotions. The midwife turned the screen so that they could both see it. 

“Is that -?” Molly tried to ask, but the lump in her throat cut off her words.

“That is your little baby,” the midwife answered, “You can see its arm waving around, and it seems like the little one is kicking up a storm.” she explained as she pointed at the screen. 

Molly felt  Sherlock’s hand tighten around hers. She turned her head, tears of joy stinging in her eyes, “That is our baby, Sherlock. Look!” She could barely contain herself, her hormones and emotions running wild in her body. 

The midwife smiled at them, wiping the gel of off Molly’s stomach, “I’ll give you two a minute to take it all in.” She froze the image on the screen and left the room.

Molly pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees. She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. Sherlock was still standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder. “My god,” he uttered suddenly, “I am going to be a father.” Molly held out her left arm, pulling him close to her. “I know,” she said, “we’re going to be parents to this little bean. Can you believe it?”

They continued to stare at the screen until the midwife re-entered the room. She gave them a pile of leaflets and explained when the next appointment should be planned. Overwhelmed by all the information, Sherlock and Molly stepped out of the hospital and began making their way to the tube station. 

When they came back to her flat, Molly sank down onto the sofa. She hadn’t slept well the past few days and soon she felt herself doze off.

She woke up almost two hours later, her back protesting heavily as she sat up and yawned. The room was filled with an orange glow, coming from the fireplace. And there he was, in the middle of the room. Down on one knee. His hands stretched out, reaching for hers. Slightly puzzled, Molly got to her feet and placed her hands in his. “Molly,” began Sherlock, his voice a bit shaky, “my dearest Molly. I can scarcely begin to explain what you mean to me. There are times I cannot find the words to describe my feelings for you.” He smiled at her, his voice stronger now, “I know I can be an impossible man to be around and you fear that I will hurt you one day. But please, love, do not worry. Not now, not ever. I will love you, protect you and cherish you every day of my life.” He kissed her fingers and looked up at her, “I want you to know that you are the most important person in my life and I do not want to spend a minute without you. So please, Molly Hooper,” he said as he slipped his right hand into his pocket and got out a small black box, “will you do me the honour of becoming the woman you deserve to be? Mrs. Holmes. My wife.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :)
> 
> This is a re-post from earlier today.  
> I've been struggling with the end of the chapter all day..Not sure if this is the road I wanted to go down on with this story, but here we are.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

She should say yes. She wanted to say yes. Heck, she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But the simple word lost its way to her mouth. The silence was deafening and seemed to last forever. Sherlock was still on his knees, but the smile had disappeared from his face. “Why?” asked Molly, suddenly. The question was out before she knew it, and she regretted it immediately. “What do you mean, why?” Sherlock looked up at her and she could she the hurt in his eyes. “I want to be with you Molly. For the rest of my life. But if that’s not something you want as well, then...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” He got up and turned his back to her. Molly was still frozen to the spot, trying desperately to regain control of her thoughts and words. “That’s not what I meant.” “Well it sure did seem like it!” snapped Sherlock. He turned around, his face contorted with anger, tears in his eyes. “You are the one that said you loved me. You’re carrying my child for god’s sake. But forgive me for wanting to spend the rest of our lives together.” He grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and before Molly could say another word, he stormed out the door. 

She wanted to go after him, tell him he had misunderstood her, but her legs gave way beneath her and she slumped against the coffee table. A sharp pain tore through her abdomen and sides and Molly cursed herself. She knew the lack of sleep and a good meal that day were taking its toll on her body. Still a bit wobbly took a deep breath and pulled herself up to her feet. Hastily she walked to the front door and stepped outside, hoping to find Sherlock wandering up and down the street, looking for a cab. But the road was deserted. She tried to think of what to do next, where to go to find him, when a sudden urge caused her to run back inside to the bathroom. Her bladder felt like it was about to burst. As she pulled down her underwear and sat down, Molly looked at the cotton fabric between her knees. She shrieked. 

Sherlock felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He tried to ignore it, as he stepped into the cramped tube carriage. It kept ringing and he couldn’t help but look at the caller ID. It was Molly. Of course it was. She probably wanted to talk to him. Apologise. He should probably listen to her, maybe she had a valid reason for her response, though he couldn’t think of one at the top of his head. “Yes?” he answered, sternly. “Sherlock?” Molly’s voice was very small. Rightly so, he thought. 

“I’m bleeding.” 

His heart sank, this was his fault. He shouldn’t have upset her. “Stay there, Molly,” he looked over his shoulder and saw that the doors of the train were still open. “I’ll be right there!” 

It took him no more than 5 minutes to run back to Molly’s flat. He burst open the front door and hurried to the bathroom. She was still sitting on the toilet, her face white with fear and worry. He crouched down in front of her. “Molly? Love?” his eyes scanning her frantically, “What happened?” Molly looked at him and started to cry, “I fell down and hit the edge of the table,” she was shivering, “And now...I’m losing...I think...” Sherlock brushed a strand of hair out of her face and shushed her. “Let me have a look,” he handed her a piece of toilet paper and helped her to her feet so that she could wipe herself. “Do you feel any cramping?” She shook her head. “Shh, it’s okay Molly. The colouration doesn’t suggest anything worrisome, but we’ll go to A&E,” he tried to console her, “Just to be safe.” 

For the second time that day, Molly found herself lying on an examination table. Anticipation and joy were replaced with dread and anxiety. Sherlock was standing next to her, stroking the top of her hand with his thumb constantly. It seemed to take hours before the curtain opened and a young-looking doctor appeared. “So,” he began and he wheeled the ultrasound machine closer to the bed, “Let’s have a look shall we.” Molly closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her throat. The gel felt cold on her bare skin and she shuddered. “It’s okay love,” whispered Sherlock, “it’s okay.” The doctor was silent during the examination, carefully studying the images on the screen. After what felt like ages, he turned around and signalled one of the nurses. They couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, and Molly felt as though she was going to pass out from the stress. “What’s wrong?” asked Sherlock, standing up but not letting go of Molly’s hand. “I just need to call in a more senior colleague to take a look, no need to worry.” The doctor replied in a vain attempt to reassure them. 

Molly’s eyes filled with tears again. “I’ve lost it,” she sobbed quietly, burrowing her face in Sherlock’s arms, “I’ve lost our baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” “Hush sweetheart, we don’t know that. It’s going to be alright. You’ll be alright. I’m right here love.” 

The curtain flung open again and a second doctor stepped into the little cubicle. “Ah, Miss Hooper, my name is doctor Holtz, consultant obstetrician. Doctor Peterson explained you have experienced some light spotting after taking a fall, is that right?” Molly nodded. “The reason doctor Peterson called me in, is to have a closer look at the ultrasound here and find the source of your bleeding.” He spoke in such a calm way that Molly felt her anxiety subside a bit. Dr Holtz pressed the probe against Molly’s lower abdomen and started moving it around. He worked quickly, but thoroughly; assessing each image from various sides before pausing the screen. “There is no need to worry, Miss Hooper,” he stated, offering her a wipe to clean her stomach. “Spotting can occur in the first twelve weeks, but is much more common in multiple pregnancies.” He zoomed in on the image and pointed at the screen, “It doesn’t happen too often that it is missed during the first ultrasound, but the position of the placenta may have made it more difficult to detect. However, I’m pleased to say both foetuses are very healthy indeed.” 

Molly gasped and looked at Sherlock, whose eyes were wide in disbelief. 

“Twins?” 

“Twins!” 

“Well fuck me. You never cease to amaze me Miss Hooper.” Sherlock smiled broadly at her, an air of relief hanging around them both. Molly had never heard Sherlock swear before; she didn’t think it’d suit him. But if anything, it made him even more human. She sat up and smiled back at him, “Just wait ‘till we’re married. You have no idea what you’ve signed up for mister. You still have that ring on you?” 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Of course it’s a yes!” 

“God, I love you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the wait, but it's been a busy few weeks at work etc.  
> Hope you enjoy this sweet/sexy/smutty/whatever-you-want-to-call-it chapter :)
> 
> PS. I wrote Angelo the way he was played in the unaired pilot, I've always preferred that portrail of the character ;)

“Molly?” 

“Hmm?” 

“We should go out tonight.” 

“Go out?” 

“Yes. Go out. You and me, out to dinner.” 

“I’d love to.” 

They were walking out the hospital, the last rays of sunshine visible through the trees that lined the pathway. The golden light suited their feelings, a sense of relief and affirmation that they were going to be alright.   
  
Half an hour later they stepped into the small establishment. Sherlock seemed determined to be a proper gentleman that night, opening the door for Molly and taking her coat. They were greeted by a young girl who guided them to a table at the window. As they sat down, Molly’s stomach started to rumble loudly, due to all the stress and chaos of that day she hadn’t noticed how hungry she was. She looked at Sherlock and they both started to smile. “God, I’m starving,” whispered Molly as the waitress placed a basket with bread and butter on the table. Sherlock winked at her, “I told you dinner would be a good idea.”   
  
“My dear Sherlock!” a short, jovial man was suddenly standing next to their table, “It’s so good to see you again my friend!”   
“Angelo,” Sherlock stood up and shook the man’s hand warmly, “Great to see you again as well.”   
“You have brought a beautiful lady. Might I take it you do want a candle for the table this time?”   
“I certainly do,” he looked at Molly and smiled broadly, “We have quite some things to celebrate.”   
Angelo clapped his hands, “I will bring you our best bottle of champagne! On the house. Only the best for you and your lovely companion.”   
“No, thank you Angelo, that is quite alright.” Sherlock dropped his voice slightly, “No alcohol for my lovely companion. It wouldn’t be wise in her condition.”   
“What great news!” Angelo grinned and he turned to Molly, “My nonna used to say, if a woman does not drink two glasses of wine every day, her babies will come out upside down.”   
“I think I’m willing to take that risk.” Molly laughed.   
  
“Sherlock?” Molly asked, when they’d finished their main course, “Why did you ask me to marry you? Is it just because of the pregnancy? I mean -”   
Sherlock put down his glass and looked at her. His hand moving toward hers on the table. “Because I want to,” his eyes started to glister, “Like I said earlier today, you are the most important person in my life. You always have been. And now -” he smiled at her, “My entire life I’ve been told I was different. My childhood wasn’t exactly ordinary and when I got older, I got lost in a world of drugs and criminals. But when I met you, I could picture something else, I dared to dream about growing old with someone. A happy life, far away from danger nights and overdoses. And now you’re giving me that, something so common yet for me so special.”   
Molly felt tears welling in her eyes, “Oh Sherlock, you big softie. Come here.” she leaned over the table and kissed him deeply.   
  
At that moment, Angelo appeared at their table again. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, “I did not mean to interrupt this romantic moment. Do you want to see the dessert menu, we have a lovely chocolate mousse? Made by me, perfect for sharing with your beautiful date”   
Sherlock raised his eyebrow suggestively at Molly before turning to Angelo, “Can we get that mousse to go? I have to take my lady home quickly.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
The door slammed shut behind them and they were standing in the narrow hallway of 221 Baker Street. Sherlock kissed her passionately, his tongue playing with hers and his hands pressed on her lower back. Molly hummed softly as she let her hands glide through his hair. They stumbled towards the stairs, not letting go of each other. Seemingly efforless, Sherlock lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their kisses started to get more desperate, their bodies aching to be close together. Sherlock carried her into his flat and pushed her back against the just closed door. Molly moaned as she felt his weight pinning her against the wooden frame, his growing erection pressing against her through their clothes. His hands were fiddling with the buckle of his belt and within seconds his trousers were around his ankles. He lifted Molly’s skirt and freed her of her knickers. Their movements became frantic, mouths kissing every piece of skin they could find. Molly tilted her hips forward and pulled Sherlock closer with her legs still wrapped around him.   
“Are you sure dear?” he asked, slightly out of breath, “I don’t want to hurt you, or them.”   
“It’s fine,” Molly panted, feeling the heat building inside her, “Fuck me, Sherlock, hard. I want you to. I need you to, please!”   
Her begging made him even harder and he grabbed his cock to guide it into her entrance. She was warm and wet, ready for him. He pushed himself in deep, causing Molly to gasp for air. Her hands tugged on his hair and she closed her eyes in pleasure. Sherlock started to thrust deeper, faster. Molly moaned at his movements, her lips still kissing his face when she felt his hands slide under her shirt and bra. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples. They were incredibly sensitive and Molly started to quiver under his touch. She was close, her wetness audible whenever his cock slam into her. Sherlock had started to groan, and just when Molly couldn’t hold herself back anymore, he came deep inside of her.   
  
Chests heaving, they sank down onto the floor, their bodies still close together. Sherlock drew her into his arms and kissed her softly on her lips, “You can go again, can’t you?” Molly giggled as she nodded; the heat was still burning, despite her orgasm. “Well, allow me to help you with that.” Sherlock said as he picked her up and put her on the kitchen table, her legs dangling over the edge. He kneeled in front of the table and leaned forward. His mouth leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way up towards her still throbbing pussy. He licked her warm lips, his tongue making circles around her clit. Molly threw her head back and let herself fall onto the cold surface of the table. The feeling of his mouth on her center was amazing, his mouth knew exactly what to do. As her muscles began to twitch, Sherlock sucked harder on her clit. The vibrations of his humming adding to the wonderful sensations. Molly started to moan loudly, her hips bucking upwards towards Sherlock’s mouth. Her toes curled and her fists clenched. Her entire body tensed up. Sherlock continued to circle his tongue around her folds, determined to give her an intense climax. He slid a single finger into her, pressing against the soft tissue. This stimulation sent Molly over the edge; her walls clutched against his finger. Her legs started to shake uncontrollably, but Sherlock didn’t stop. He kept sucking her clit through her orgasm until she cried out his name. He got to his feet and wrapped his arms around her back, lifting her off the table. Molly sank into his embrace, completely spent, “Thank you for dessert, love.” 


	7. Chapter 7

Molly sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She looked at the window and saw little snowflakes fluttering down outside. She smiled; with the 25th of December only days away, it seemed that it would finally be a white Christmas this year. As she got out of bed and wrapped Sherlock’s dressing gown around her, she could hear music coming from the living room. Softly, she opened the bedroom door and tiptoed through the kitchen. Sherlock was standing in front of the fire, his back to her. His head tilted slightly, violin resting on his shoulder. Molly recognised the tune and she smiled; he was playing the intro to ‘ _You were always on my mind_ ’. She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle melody. Suddenly, Sherlock’s voice filled the room. No louder than a whisper and trembling, he started to sing. Molly looked at him and she felt her eyes starting to water. She walked up to him and slowly let her hands glide up his arms to his shoulders. Sherlock froze at her touch. He turned around and Molly could see the tears welling in his eyes. “Dance with me,” she whispered. Sherlock dropped his violin on the chair and wrapped his arms around her waist. Molly pressed herself against him, her arms still on his shoulders and without a word they started to move.   
  
Sherlock pulled her closer into his embrace. His breathing was irregular, and Molly felt warm tears dropping in her hair. She looked up and she let her thumbs wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Ssh, it’s ok love. What’s wrong?” Molly stepped back and guided Sherlock onto the sofa where she curled up next to him. “I’m -” Sherlock started, but quickly he averted his eyes. “Hey,” Molly gently cupped his face, “What is it? Tell me babe.” He dropped his head, “I’m worried. What if I can’t make you happy? What if I’m no good at -” His hand was on her stomach and he was stroking it, absentmindedly. “I just, I just never thought I could love someone as I love you. But these two,” he sighed, “I love them so much already. I’m scared I’ll get it wrong.”   
“Come here,” Molly said, “You will always be good enough for us, Sherlock. Do you hear me? Always.” She kissed him softly and she could see his face lighting up ever so slightly.  
  
\-----------------------------------------------  
  
“Do you think we should start telling people?” asked Molly several hours later. She had been reading in front of the fire whilst Sherlock had been working on some experiments at the kitchen table. “Telling people?”   
“Yes, about us. And the pregnancy. I’ve gotten to the point where my jeans don’t exactly fit anymore.”   
Sherlock looked up at her and nodded, “Hmm, I’ve noticed. You must have gained what? 10 pounds by now?”   
“Oi!” Molly threw her book at him, laughing, “9 pounds 8 ounces thank you very much. Which is perfectly normal according to the midwife.”   
“Same difference.” mumbled Sherlock, under his breath.   
“What was that?”   
“You look beautiful, love.”   
“Thought so.”   
  
Molly sat down next to him, “I’m serious Sherlock. We should tell them. I’ve been staying here for two weeks and we haven’t even told Mrs. Hudson!”   
“She’s been at her sister’s in Cornwall.”   
“Yes, and she’ll be home in three days. Don’t you think she’ll notice?”   
“What do you propose?”   
Molly cleared her throat, “I was thinking, you and John do a little Christmas party every year,”   
“That was when John lived here,” Sherlock interrupted.   
“I know, but I thought it would be nice to continue the tradition don’t you think?” 

\-----------------------------------------------  
  
The living room was filled with chatter and laughter. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, his foot tapping impatiently. He had managed to convince John to host the evening together as they used to do. There were more people than usual; Mrs. Hudson, John who had brought a woman named Mary, Lestrade, his parents and Mycroft. The door opened downstairs, and Sherlock suddenly rose to his feet. “Uhm, hello,” he started, trying to get everyone’s attention, “I would like to make an announcement.” His eyes met Molly’s, who had just reached the landing and was now standing in the doorway. “There is someone I’d like you to meet. Someone who has showed me what life should be like. Someone who is giving me the most important thing I’ve ever had. My -”   
Molly stepped into the room and wanted to make her way to Sherlock, when Mrs. Hudson grabbed her hand, “Molly dear, how lovely to see you. Quick, sit down, Sherlock is about to introduce us to a special someone.” “Actually,” Sherlock interjected, giving Molly the opportunity to walk towards him, “I would like to introduce you to my fiancée,” he helped Molly taking off her coat, before placing his hand on her stomach, “the mother of my two children, Molly Hooper.”   
  
There was an audible silence for a few seconds. Then Mrs. Holmes stood up and walked to Sherlock and Molly. “Really?” she asked, and Sherlock nodded. “Oh heavens, that is wonderful news!” she exclaimed as she hugged him. She then turned to Molly, “I am so happy, my dear. Our son always spoke so lovingly about you. Welcome to the family dear.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> So, one computer-crash, two weeks of the flu and one (near) autistic burn-out later, I'm back.
> 
> Please bear with me, I know this one is on the shorter side..  
> But I hope you enjoy this chapter and I will try to update more frequently from now on :)

The new year began grey and cold. The bleakness of January seemed to mirror Molly’s mood. She had officially moved into Baker Street shortly after Christmas and she’d imagined it would be wonderful; the two of them spending hours together, slowly getting used to the idea that they were to become parents in a few months. Instead, Sherlock had left for a case on New Year’s Day. He had been in York for almost ten days and she hadn’t heard from him, apart from the daily text that he was alright and that he was close to figuring it out.

She spent her days at work, having found a new routine there, and her evenings alone on the sofa. When she woke up on Saturday, she was still feeling gloomy. The empty bed next to her felt cold and she was starting to really miss Sherlock. With a sigh she got up and made her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she sank down on Sherlock’s chair.

There was a short knock on the door and before Molly could get to her feet, Mrs. Hudson came into the living room with a bucket in one hand, hoover in the other. “Good morning dear, how are you today?” she asked cheerfully as she walked to the windows opened the curtains.  
Molly clutched her dressing gown around her and looked at Mrs. Hudson who had begun to collect the empty plates and mugs from the table, “I’m uhm fine, thanks. Is there anything I can do for you?”  
“Oh no, don’t worry dear, just here to tidy up the place.”  
Molly stood up and took some of the plates from Mrs. Hudson’s hands, “Please, let me help. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping things cleaner around here.”  
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Hudson as she guided Molly back to her seat, “You’re pregnant, you’re working full-time, it is no wonder you are exhausted when you come home at night.”

Molly looked at her, tears welling in her eyes, this simple acknowledgement that things weren’t easy hit her harder than she’d imagined.  
“I’m sorry. I just wish Sherlock was here. It’s silly, he’s only been gone for ten days. I just miss him.”  
Mrs. Hudson sat down next and took Molly’s hands into her own, “I remember what it was like being in your first trimester. The tiredness can be quite overwhelming, not to mention having your hormones wreaking havoc in your body.”  
“You’ve been – I mean, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had children.”  
“Oh, it’s been such a long time. It was back in the early seventies, I was living with my husband and I was convinced he loved me as much as I loved him. How naïve I was.” Mrs. Hudson sighed deeply and continued, “Henry was only 18 months when his father took him out in the car, angry and drunk after an argument. I can still picture the policeman’s face when I opened the door.”  
“I’m so sorry,” said Molly, the tears now slowly falling down her face.  
“Thank you dear,” Mrs. Hudson replied, “Now, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want you to know that you can always come to me if you want to talk. I understand how insecure you might feel.”

Molly brought her hands to her face and sobbed quietly, “Sometimes I worry that Sherlock isn’t happy or excited about them. It seems I can’t reach him when I try to talk to him. And now he’s away and all I get are these lousy texts.”  
“You both have been through quite some extremes these past few weeks, highs and lows. It is no wonder things aren’t going as smoothly as you want or need them to go. But let me tell you,” Mrs. Hudson lifted Molly’s chin gently, “I have known Sherlock for many years and I have never seen him the way he is when he is around you. He loves you so deeply, and he would die for these two,” she gestured to Molly’s stomach. “You both just need time, just time to find a new rhythm and pace that works for you. It will be alright, come here.” Mrs. Hudson rose to her feet and hugged Molly tightly.

“How about you go and get dressed, I’ll finish up here and then we’ll go out for some tea and cake,”  
“Cake? It’s half ten in the morning.” Molly couldn’t help but smile at the landlady.  
“You’re pregnant dear,” she winked, “you’re allowed cake.”


	9. Chapter 9

Mrs. Hudson and Molly were standing in the narrow hallway, putting on their coats when the front door opened. John walked in and greeted them with a smile, “Morning Molly, Mrs. Hudson. You two going out?”  
“John, good morning! Yes, we were just going to get a cuppa -”  
“Where is he?” Molly interrupted.  
“Sorry?”  
“Where is Sherlock, John?” Molly’s head started to spin, “Is he still in York?”  
“York?” John asked, “Hasn’t he been – I mean, Christ. The case. I have to find him.”  
Molly felt her head starting to spin.  
“Where is he?” she asked again.  
“I - I don’t know,” John said, reaching in his pocket and grabbing out his phone, “We came back on Wednesday morning and when we got off the train I asked him if he wanted to share a cab. But he said he had to go somewhere first. I figured he’d surprise you at Bart’s or something.” He brought his phone to his ear, “Mycroft, we’ve lost track of Sherlock.” 

Half an hour later, the black Jaguar pulled up beside the old teaching building behind Bart’s Hospital. Molly and John got out quickly and rushed inside. The corridor was empty and dark. The smell of old books and years of neglect was mixed with a faint hint of sweat and urine. They opened the door to one of the classrooms and Molly felt her stomach turn. There was a lethargic figure lying in the corner of the room, surrounded by spoons and needles. She recognised him instantly. Sherlock was huddled against the wall, his coat wrapped around him like a blanket. 

Molly hurried over towards him and crouched down next to him. She could see his hands trembling, his bloodshot eyes looking up at her.  
“Mycroft told you where to find me? Bloody traitor.” he snarled.  
“Hey,” Molly whispered. “What happened?”  
“Just leave.”  
Molly tried to brush his curls out of his face but he turned away.  
“Come on love, let me look at you.”  
“I said leave!” He was still trying to get away from her, but Molly held him firmly.  
“Shh. Just tell me. What happened?”  
“Go away, please.”  
“It’s ok love, I want to help you. What’s wrong?”  
“Fuck off!” Sherlock snapped and he pushed her away. Molly felt her blood beginning to boil.  
“I can’t do this Sherlock. These constant extremes. One day it’s all cuddles and dinners, saying you could never live without me and the next I find you at rock bottom lying next to the scum of the earth, off your face on whatever it is that took your fancy this time. For god’s sake Sherlock! These are your children too. I want them to have a father that loves them and is there for them.”  
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to let me fuck you.” he mumbled under his breath. 

Her hand met his face before she realised what she’d done.  
“How dare you! How fucking dare you, Sherlock!”  
She rose to her feet, blocking John who had come to intervene.  
“Get up,”  
“No.”  
“I wasn’t asking. Get up!”  
“Why?”  
“I’m taking you home.” she said sternly.  
Sherlock didn’t move. John stepped in and grabbed Sherlock’s hand, dragging him to his feet.  
“Come on mate, let’s at least get you to the car.” 

They were sitting opposite each other in the living room. Sherlock had eventually gotten into the car but he was now refusing to even look at Molly. It had been silent for nearly twenty minutes when Molly sighed, got up and walked to the bathroom. Turning on the tap, she let the tub fill with warm water. She came back into the living room and took his hand.  
“Come here.”  
“Why?”  
“Just come here,” Molly said as she guided him to the middle of the bathroom. She began to unbutton his shirt and took off his trousers. He looked stunned as she continued to undress him and before he knew, he was standing in front of her, naked.  
“Get in,” she instructed as she turned off the tap.  
“No,”  
“Get into the tub.”  
“I’m not a child!”  
“Then don’t act like one and talk to me!”  
Reluctantly, Sherlock let himself sink into the water. The warmth soothing his aching body instantly. Molly pulled up a stool and sat down next to him, quietly. With every passing minute, she could see Sherlock relax more. His frown softening, his jaw and fists unclenching. It was not long before he broke down; tears falling down his face. Molly stroked his hand with her thumb. 

“What happened out there Sherlock?”  
“I failed,” he replied, hoarsely.  
“And why is that so bad? You didn’t solve the case -”  
“I didn’t just fail to solve the case. I failed her.”  
“Failed who?”  
“She was taken,” he began, “It should have been a simple case. Typical jealous ex-boyfriend case we thought. We found her kidnapper after two days. It turned out it was a friend of the criminal her father had sentenced to 15 years. When we came to the old factory, John and I split up. And I found her. Bleeding. I could see she had been stabbed, but -” his voice caught in his throat and he wiped the tears from his eyes. “John and I should’ve never split up. He could have done something. He might have saved her. She died. I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t even hold her hand. I just stood there as she bled to death.” 

Molly grabbed his hand and kissed it gently.  
“She was kidnapped and murdered because she was the daughter of one of the High Court judges and the delinquent wanted his revenge. She died because her father had enemies.”  
Sherlock finally looked up at her and Molly could feel the pain in his expression.  
“And then I realised, I’m putting you at the same risk. And I could never forgive myself if anything like that happened. So maybe it’s better if -” he turned his face away, his voice shaking, “If I’m not in your life. Maybe you’ll be safer then.” 

Molly stood up and took both his hands. “Listen to me Sherlock,” she said as she placed them on her stomach and looked at him, “Feel that? Those are our children. We need you. Because we love you. We’ll always be safe when we have you. Trust me.”


End file.
